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Turel's Memories
Another Time Another Place The deer's carcass lay steaming on the cave floor, viscera spilling from the gaping hole in its belly. The man who had once been Turel Andiam hunched over the animal, its black blood coating his naked body. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd eaten, how long he'd sat alone in the cold dark, but when he'd seen the outline of life at the cave mouth he'd leapt forward without a moment's hesitation. The doe had died with his teeth around its neck, a grip he never would have been able to maintain had he still been human. The though caused a spasm of pain to shoot through his back, the phantom memories of a twisted, broken spine, and Turel pushed it aside. Tearing at the raw meat with his teeth, the blood brought warmth for the first time in recent memory, and with warmth came memories. Sitting with her by the fire, reading one of their master's many tomes. '' ''Lying in the grass next to her, hands intertwined. '' ''Silken sheets in the secret of night. '' ''The flush of embarrassment as she fled the derision of his peers. '' ''The fever of rage. '' ''The touch of burning brands upon young flesh. '' ''His father's study, sprayed in blood and fouler things. '' ''"Enough," cried the stricken man, his appetite forgotten in the flood of pleasure and pain. His attempt to stand only sent him stumbling back, to collapse by the fetid pool that had been his fountain and his lavatory until he'd forgotten the pull of thirst. Alien eyes stared back from his reflection, burning, purple things that held a hunger that demanded far more than raw meat. '' ''"Let me out." '' ''The voice! Always, the unceasing voice! It was his, and yet not his, a sibilant whisper that held untold promise and untold terror in equal measure. He had to keep it inside. Had to keep it hidden, because...because... The man grasped desperately for an answer, for a memory that had long sustained his violent agony. The guilt of...something. A murder. A foul, unforgivable thing that would forever stain his soul. But who had he murdered!? Father, mother, master, lover, all whirled in his mind, all fading, all falling, falling to the hunger of the voice. He collapsed into a fetal position, then, rocking back and forth as he wept tears that would not come. '' ''"Let me take your pain away." '' ''A promise. It seemed such a simple thing, to be free of pain. So many times he'd refused, clinging to the rock of his shame, and yet now the thing that had once towered as a mountain had shrunk into the horizon, almost beyond his sight. The wracking shudder ceased, and with desperate eyes Turel Andiam spoke to the dark. '' ''"What are you!?" '' ''The voice was closer, now, if only barely, and it spoke faster than before. '' ''"I am everything that was promised. An end to pain, to fear, to guilt. I can remake your life into something glorious." '' ''With every word, the voice seemed creep towards him, and as he lay on the ground Turel peered to the far edge of the cave, swathed in shadows, as though he expected to see its source. '' ''"But why?" '' ''"Because I am you! I am who you were meant to be! Powerful and whole." '' ''A memory of pain, again. Lying in a chair in the cold light of winter, his broken fingers desperately trying to keep hold of a crystal glass. A spasm courses up a crooked arm and the glass goes flying to the floor. In the window pane, an old man stares back at him, one eye a charred ruin, the other a faded blue already going milky from trauma. His hair had nearly all been burned away in the torture, leaving naught but wispy white strands falling to hunched shoulders. '' ''"No...." '' ''The voice was beside him now, in his ear, crouching over his comatose form like a beast from legend. Yet, for all the dark intent he could sense behind its words, the voice was warm, and familiar. '' ''"There is no need for you to dwell on the terrors of the past. You have suffered and struggled so hard to reach this point - do not throw away your chance for happiness now!" '' ''Hesitation. A single moment at the precipice. Had he remained strong, he could have pulled back. Had he still seen the faces of his loved ones burning in his mind, he could have pulled back. But Turel Andiam was tired, terribly tired, and instead of pulling back he slipped forward into oblivion. His feet left the bedrock of sanity, and suddenly he could remember all of it. His father, collapsing from his drugged tea. The tortuous burning in his muscles as he dragged him from the dining room to the study. The knife, black and old as sin, rippling in the firelight. Blood. Pain. He opened his mouth to scream, to shout against the coming night, but not a sound escaped. A blink of his burning, indigo eyes, and Turel Meresin stood from the filth of the floor, popping his back with a luxurious stretch. '' ''"That took entirely too long." Another Time Another Place Two Months Later The doctor's demonstration had drawn a large crowd, both noble and merchant alike. Turel felt out of place among so many golden-skinned Hefrizians, but they paid little mind to the pale foreigner in their midst, focusing all their attention instead to the master upon the stage. The backdrop was an intricate sketch of a human hand, and for the past two hours Doctor Aselmeph Zhirad had entranced his audience with a detailed dissertation on its functions. Muscle, tendon, bone, all were revealed and discussed with the same precision with which a watchmaker might speak on his craft. Yet even that might not have impressed, had it not been for the singular beauty the doctor had chosen as his demonstration. She lay, drugged, as the doctor inserted the thinnest of needles into her open palm, causing her hand to motion and jerk as though it had a mind of its own. As he reached the conclusion of his lecture, her fingers held the needles holding them in place, displaying the tireless endurance of a statue. "And so we see that the body is not some forbidden mystery, but a painted canvas that waits only for the light to expose it. If we only have the courage to draw aside the curtain of mystery and distrust, we may even manage to add brush strokes of our own. Thank you." '' ''A standing ovation for the good doctor, yet curiously his eyes were focused not on the adulation of the gathered crowd but on the singular stranger who remained seated, clapping politely with head inclined. Turel had not come to see a medical lecture - no, he'd come for its presenter, and his applause were for an entirely different performance. Ever since he'd arrived in Hefriz, he'd felt the slight traces of another demonic presence moving within civilized society, and almost on a whim Turel had decided to follow them to their source. There, on that stage, basking in the cheers of those infinitely it's lessers, the demon was revealed. He had recognized Turel with all the speed he himself had been recognized, and now both waited for the privacy necessary to conduct their business. Slowly, the crowd filed out into the bloody sunlight of the Hefrizian evening, leaving two monsters staring at each other across the body of a comatose girl. Tentatively, Turel stood and gave a slight bow. '' ''"Your presentation was truly magnificent. Not a one of them suspected what you truly were." '' ''"I might return the compliment, were it not for your nature. I know of your kind, Abomination - what business brings you to me?" '' ''"I have sensed you since I arrived in Hefriz. Now, upon learning of your deserved mastery of anatomy, I find myself curious. Might I see your true work?" '' ''The doctor's eyes narrowed, his mind working furiously to discern any artifice in Turel's request. Yet, for every misgiving, he returned to the fact that this stranger was a more feared and hunted creature than even himself. '' ''"I cannot refuse such a polite request. What might I call you, stranger?" '' ''The doctor turned on his heel, gripping the handles of his demonstration's gurney. Springing to action, Turel hastened down to the stage. '' ''"My name is Turel An-...Turel Meresin. And yourself?" '' ''"Zhirad will do." '' ''"You use your own name among mortals?" '' ''"Why not? So long as I avoid creating suspicion, the name means nothing to them." '' ''Turel paused for a moment before hurrying to catch up to Zhirad as he pushed through a curtain to the backstage. Moving with practiced motions, he wheeled the gurney into a wooden lift and began working the crank. With a jerk, they began to descend, the basement opening up below them beneath a dusty shroud. The underworks of the theater were cavernous, towering crates of props and forgotten costumes sending jagged shadows across the ceiling as Zhirad led Turel towards a single guttering flame. They eventually reached a thick wooden door, opened but a crack, that Zhirad pushed through gingerly before relinquishing his cargo. As Turel entered, the door swung shut behind him. '' ''The room was lit by a grand collection of lanterns, their impeccably clean panes bathing its grisly occupants with warm light. In one corner, a corpse was strapped to an inclined table, the flesh of the torso pinned aside to reveal the organs beneath. The redness of them revealed the body to be very fresh. Lining the walls were body parts of every kind suspended in formaldehyde, more than a few contorted in what could only have been extreme pain. Below the floating gallery was a veritable treasure trove of shining vials of every shape and size, each labeled meticulously. Turel recognized only a handful of labels, but even his slim comprehension revealed toxins and narcotics of every stripe. But what drew the eye most was the center table, where a neat collection of six amputated human forearms was lined up, the skin peeled away to reveal various layers of tissue. Turel regarded the macabre collection with fascination, noting the amputation cuts seemed even fresher than the dissection, only for the clatter of the gurney against the wall to wake him from his reverie. '' ''"Does she ever awaken?" '' ''"Eventually her period of inactivity will have destroyed any useful muscle groups. I estimate another month of use, at least, but eventually she will need to be put to another use." '' ''Zhirad gave a pointed look to the dissected corpse on the table. '' ''"Until then, she remains asleep. Now, Meresin, tell me why you've come." '' ''Turel turned his full attention to Zhirad, only to find the erstwhile doctor holding a foot long surgical knife lightly in one hand, his eyes flat and deadly. Giving a remorseful smile, Turel raised his hands, palms open. '' ''"Please, I did not come here for violence. Quite the opposite, in fact. I'd like to make you a proposition." '' ''"What kind of proposition?" '' ''"Why, the life changing kind, of course. How long do you think you can maintain this ruse? Already, your mortal peers must wonder how you make such startling innovations in their field - eventually, someone will come asking questions, and the entire enterprise will crumble. And for what? To better the lives of these wretches? To bask in their fleeting praise? I have felt your power, and it could be turned to far greater ends." '' ''"Your ends, you mean." '' ''"Yes. By my own design, I have gained the power to rule, but even the strongest of emperors cannot rule alone. I require counsel, and loyal service from those who know how to be discreet." '' ''"I have heard such words before, uttered by other Pride demons too caught up in their own glory to see the noose tightening. What do you intend to do? Assemble an army of half-formed demons and try and topple the world?" '' ''"Hardly." '' ''A single word, but it sent a chill through the room as Turel's eyes came alive. '' ''"There is power in this world, hidden away from the eyes of the worthy by those who fear their betters. But hidden knowledge can be recovered, hidden power reclaimed. With patience, and cunning, we could reshape the world." '' ''"You weave an enticing image, Meresin. You at least have the wit for subtlety. But why single me out? And why pretend that I have an option? I feel your nature - you could compel me if you wished." '' ''"A simple reason, Zhirad. A servant driven only by base compulsion will spend half their efforts looking for a way to break their chains. I need true loyalty, and that can only come through choice. Besides, I'm confident you will accept." '' ''"And why is that?" '' ''"Because I offer the one thing you lack - vision, and the will to carry it out." Another Time Another Place Three Years Later The northern wind was birthed in the far mountains, forced from the womb of secret valleys by the insistent pull of mortal breaths. Sweeping from tall fastnesses that still remembered a time before the steps of men had marked stone, the whistling breeze devoured a thousand scents, caught a hundred whispered secrets, and continued ever onwards. One particular gust swept eastwards, towards a sprawling wood filled with life, only to stumble across a pair of riders before the arboreal gates. '' ''"It seems we'll be sleeping outside again tonight." '' ''"Thank you for that astute observation." '' ''A gust of wind ruffled Turel's cloak, filling his nostrils momentarily with the fresh scent of approaching spring. Its passing sent ripples through the black smoke that hung miasmic in the air, revealing even more of the charred village. He and Zhirad had ridden hard for three days to reach this northern kingdom, one of the many free states that changed lords and borders so often as to lack any official name. Their departure from Vivexia had been hasty, after the Imperial Scribe had been found alive, and he'd hoped to acquire supplies at this once-charming waystop. Scant hope for that now. '' ''"We cannot go much farther in this condition. The horses require food, and rest." '' ''There was the accursed truth of the situation, and yet they dared not linger in the open any longer than they had to. The Vivexians had a surprisingly low tolerance for the torture of one of their revered scholars, and there was almost certainly a division of hardened Imperials less than a day's ride behind them. Not for the first time, Turel reminded himself of the need to find a better hiding place than a cave the next time they required information. Regardless, they needed a reprieve. '' ''"Then let us search this ruined husk of a town. Perhaps we'll be lucky, and find a portal to paradise." '' ''A rueful, doomed smile passed between the two demons as they dismounted and led their uncertain mounts between two piles of melted slag that must once have been the foundations of watchtowers. The main road was a grey soup of mud and ash, clinging to everything it touched, and both Turel and Zhirad 's cloaks were thoroughly filthy by the time they reached what remained of the village green. Across from them loomed the blackened superstructure of what must have been and inn or trading post, support beams thrusting into the sky like the bones of some dead behemoth. The other houses were little better - some walls were intact, but despite their distance from each other every house seemed thoroughly gutted. Silence reigned in that dim, grey wasteland, and even as their eyes searched for any sign of life they both noticed something entirely peculiar. '' ''"Zhirad?" '' ''"Yes, sir?" '' ''"You wouldn't happen to see any corpses, would you?" '' ''"Not a one." '' ''The wind picked up again, but any trace of Spring scent was crushed by the charred air. It recoiled against movement or life, closing in on the wind, sending it screaming through jagged cracks until it was but an anguished whisper. '' ''"Could the survivors have gathered the bodies once the blaze had run its course?" '' ''"If they did, they were far better neighbors than any I ever met. No, I think something sinister is at work here." '' ''Turel strode towards the inn, followed silently by Zhirad. Their horses stood, disconsolate and terrified, too afraid to move from where their reins had dropped. An exhausted whinny escaped one, only to be swallowed by the smoky silence. '' ''Reaching what remained of the threshold, Turel pushed aside a splintered char that might once have been a door beam to enter what remained of the common room. There, lying neatly in a row, were the remains of four humans and a dog, their blackened skulls open wide in a perpetual scream. Stalking forward cautiously to be sure of his footing, Turel knelt beside them. '' ''"Zhirad, what do you make of this?" '' ''Immediately, the demonic physician set to work, delicately probing the remains, working with the manic precision of a spider building a web, until his fingers halted on the corpses' arms. Reaching beneath the bones, he pulled a twisted length of chain from the ashes. '' ''"They were bound." '' ''"More than that. The dog's throat was cut before being placed here. It is curious." '' ''"Curious indeed. And I'd wager we'll find similar bodies in all these other houses." '' ''"What is your wager?" '' ''Turel snorted. '' ''"Considering our current lack of means? Why not our choice of destination once we escape this desperate situation?" '' ''"Agreed." '' ''Eager to settle their latest bet, the two monsters departed the inn for the nearest thing identifiable as a house. While the only remaining structure was a jagged chimney, it was sufficient landmark to draw the eye. Just as before, bodies were laid out in what must have been the living area, only two here, back to back, only a few fibers speaking to the ropes that had bound them. Leaning against the chimney, Turel pulled his sole remaining cigar and lit it in a fit of consternation. '' ''"Bodies arranged before the burning, yet no signs of a true struggle? And once the fires started, anyone unbound would have fled. How would you ensure every person in the village was bound without risking alerting a night owl?" '' ''Zhirad paced among the remains of the house, stepping gingerly over the cinders that marked dividing walls. '' ''"It must have been someone they trusted. There is no other way they could have gained access without a sce-" A creak beneath Zhirad's feet, and suddenly eyes green and purple turned to the floor beneath him. Kneeling down, he swept aside a layer of soot to reveal a trap door, blackened but whole. '' ''"A root cellar?" '' ''"Only one way to find out." '' ''To Turel's surprise, the trap door swung open easily, revealing a ladder leading into darkness. With a shrug, he descended, followed closely by Zhirad. While it had appeared utterly black from the outside, as they passed beyond the reach of the sun both monsters noticed a slight glow from the walls, phosphorescent fungus growing in trays cut into the living earth. They stood in a room near as large as the house above them, but what piqued their interest was the series of tunnels leading away from the room, to other points in the village. Even stranger, the smell of burning only increased as they left the light, now tinged with the pungent odor of seared flesh. Making a circuit of the room, he stopped at a particular entrance before whispering to Zhirad. '' ''"The scent is coming from down there." '' ''Together, they crept forward, guided by the same luminous trail that had served the villagers when they sought shelter from the grip of the deep winter. Gradually, the path widened, and they became aware of a vast chamber opening before them, a chamber that could only have been constructed beneath the inn. Passing between two great beer vats standing guard at the entrance, Turel's attention was so fixed on the surroundings that he did not notice the toy beneath his feet until it shattered under step. Leaning down, his brow furrowed at the sight of a doll, crude but much loved before its arrival in that sorry den. He reached out to examine it closer, only for a timid gasp from across the room to seize his attention. '' ''"Please don't hurt me." '' ''Peering in the murk, Turel discerned a wide pile of disparate clothes and furs, shoved into what may have passed for a bed. Taking a step forward, he discerned the glint of two eyes staring from beneath the tangle. '' ''"Have no fear, child. We mean you no harm." '' ''Turel began to wonder if they hadn't found supplies after all, even as the mass of furs shuddered and parted for the hidden body beneath. But as they parted, a wave of noxious fume assaulted him, and comprehension dawned in his and Zhirad's eyes. Arm outstretched, he called a twining flow of hellfire to his palm as the vision of a small red headed girl froze it its motion. '' ''"Do you take us for fools!?" '' ''"Very clever, to hide your aura among the scents of the dead. Even a Hunter would not have identified you." '' ''A flexing of his wrists, and Zhirad suddenly held a pair of wickedly sharp knives, their foot-long blades gleaming in the scant light. '' ''"But we are no simple Hunters." '' ''The childish eyes widened, flashing into a burning red flame as the girl rose fully from her hiding place. Even as her gaze flicked between Zhirad and Turel, her form deformed under her dress, limbs lengthening as jagged twigs grew from virgin flesh. '' ''"GO AWAY! This is my place, mine! You can't make me go back to the cold!" '' ''"Cease your childish ravings, Wrath Demon! They will not deceive us!" '' ''A torso composed entirely of burned matchsticks heaved, and flame began to leak from blazing eyes. '' ''"I said LEAVE!" '' ''Eyes narrowing, Turel took a step forward, even as he motioned for Zhirad to lower his weapons. '' ''"I don't believe her childishness is a ruse, Zhirad. Tell me, demon, what is your purpose here?" '' ''The demonic face contorted into something approximating a pout, as it spit forth a reply. '' ''"My name isn't "demon!" My friends call me Annah, but you can call me Candleman!" '' ''"Alright, Candleman - what is your business here?" '' ''"I came to be WARM. The other places, they stopped being warm when the fires went out. I hate it when the fires go out." '' ''"So you did all this...to be warm? However did you convince these people to let you into their homes." '' ''"Oh, that's SIMPLE. No one suspects a little girl of being the cause of the mysterious deaths. And they had these wonderful tunnels, and I thought, why not set them all on fire at the same time? I've never seen an entire town burn." '' ''Turel relaxed back, turning to give Zhirad a look. A look that clearly said "we can use her." A look that Zhirad clearly disliked, though he said nothing. '' ''"Tell me, Candleman, what are you planning to do when the fires go out here?" '' ''The intensity of her eyes dimmed - she was curious. '' ''"I don't know. Find another town, I guess. There's always more kindling for the fire." '' ''"And after that?" '' ''"Well...another town!" '' ''"And after that?" '' ''Her voice rose, curiosity shifting to anger. '' ''"ANOTHER TOWN! Why do you care?" '' ''"Wouldn't you like do burn something more than little towns and simple peasants?" '' ''"What do you mean?" '' ''"Candleman, I could take you into cities filled with people beyond count, filled with wondrous scents and screams. I could show you countryside bristling with kindling and driftwood, and fields of wheat as far as the eye can see! And I could take you to places where the cold never touches, and it is warm and dry every day of every year stretching into eternity." '' ''With every offer, the fiery eyes grew wider, the mouth a little more slack, until the thought of lands where cold never touched unleashed a stifled gasp. '' ''"But why?" '' ''"Because you are the only Wrath Demon I've seen capable of subterfuge in the slightest. Because you burned an entire town to feed your needs. And because I can't help but like you, I suppose." '' ''Zhirad sighed in defeat as a smile spread across Annah's face, which quickly resumed its human mien. '' ''"I...I would very much like to visit places that were always wa-" '' ''The jangle of harnesses above, and the rasp of armor. The Vivexians had caught up at last, though their confused cries meant they'd only discovered the horses. '' ''"Who is that!?" '' ''"That, Candleman, is but the first in a long line of exotic tinder for your fires. Tell me, would you like to play a game?" Another Time Another Place Five Years Later "Can someone please remind me why we have to dress like this?" '' ''Keller tugged at the high collar of his servant's uniform, once again fidgeting in the loose-cut fabric. It was not so much the clothes themselves that he disliked, but the implication of the heraldic crest stitched over his heart, the crest that was displayed prominently on the noble jacket Zhirad was currently wearing. They were in the halls of one of the great Celandish lords, and while Zhirad strode with honor through the assembled ranks of minor nobility Turel, Annah, and Keller were forced to follow behind as loyal retainers. '' ''"Because, Keller, this strange affliction that has struck down the Count's daughter has eluded the expertise of a dozen of the finest doctors in the West. If Zhirad can get us close enough to study it, to harness it, we shall have a potent weapon at our disposal." '' ''"And then we can start playing with the people here?" '' ''Annah was forced to hurry to keep stride with the two larger men, but her face remained jubilant nevertheless. Joy always suffused her being at the promise of one of their many games, though of late they'd taken to combining them into one great amusement to help wile away the hours. '' ''"Yes Annah, then we can play to our heart's content." '' ''A sharp hiss from Zhirad cut the conversation short, as the coterie arrived at the gilded doors to the Count's private apartments. Flanked by fluted marble pillars, the door held scenes of arboreal splendor, though the grandeur was dampened by the shadow of a father's grief. There standing before the door was the Count himself, his shoulders hunched beneath thick sable robes. Raising shadowed eyes at Zhirad's approach, the Count surveyed the honored retinue before him. '' ''"Welcome to my home, Lord Sevellas. I hope you bring better tidings than those who have come before you." '' ''Sweeping his arms out in a low bow, Zhirad lowered his head before the noble. Though he'd grown more accustomed to back alleys and isolated caves since his time in Turel's service, the good doctor was still more than capable of blending in with polite society. '' ''"Many thanks, my lord, for this gracious welcome. I shall endeavor to cure your daughter's ailment with the fullness of my skill, and even if there is but the slightest hope I swear she will be saved." '' ''The Count's frown deepened. Doubtless he'd heard many such oaths in the weeks since his daughter's illness had begun, and had grown short of hope or kind words. '' ''"Carry on, then." '' ''Bowing once again, Zhirad led them through the heavy doors and into the noble's private chambers. Portraits of honored ancestors lined the walls between curtains of hunter green velvet. Most of the doors lining the corridor were closed, the isolation of a hospital ward, save for the farthest door on the left. Firelight flooded into the hall through the merest crack, betraying the smothering heat lying in wait. All was silent, until Turel spoke. '' ''"Though I realize it is secondary to our interests, I must admit this case has piqued my curiosity. Do you have any theories, Zhirad?" '' ''Before the doctor could reply, Keller sneered a reply. '' ''"Perhaps dear daddy slipped up and got the sweet girl pregnant." '' ''Both Turel and Zhirad sighed in exasperation. While Keller had his uses, wit was not one of them. '' ''"I'm inclined to doubt something so simple as incest is the cause, Keller. By all accounts, the girl is languid to the point of exhaustion, barely able to consume food, let alone speak. All with no forewarning. No, there is something special afflicting the girl." '' ''"Maybe she played too hard?" '' ''Turel chuckled and ruffled Annah's hair. '' ''"Perhaps, sweetling. Whatever the situation, we'll have the truth soon enough." '' ''They pushed through the door, revealing an opulent bedchamber. One wall was dominated by a marble fireplace well supplied with lumber, while braziers filled with sweet herbs burned on the other three walls. The bed was massive, draped in sky blue silk, and in the center lay the Count's daughter, unmoving save for the faintest stirrings of breath. They approached, circling the bed, but as Zhirad leaned close to examine her unblinking blue eyes he froze, and recoiled back with a Hefrizian curse. '' ''"Why is it the first truly interesting phenomenon we find proves a complete waste of my talents? Did I offend a divine as a mortal?" '' ''The other three shot him strange looks before reaching out with their supernal perception. It was but a moment before their tensed bodies relaxed in exasperation. Moaning in disappointment, Annah collapsed next to the body on the bed, while Keller stalked away, shaking his head, only to grab the nearest flask of wine and take a deep swig. Leaning against the bedpost, Turel looked to Zhirad. '' ''"Sloth Demon?" '' ''"Of course, what else!?" '' ''Leaning down to look the Count's daughter in the eyes, Turel snapped his fingers just enough to produce sparks. '' ''"Come on out, now. We've promised the Count a cure, and we'll have it even if we have to burn you out of her." '' ''The girl blinked, and suddenly blue eyes were replaced by a serpent's yellow. With the moan of unused muscles, she sat up in a shot, only collapsing back when a thick mist exploded from her mouth. In seconds, the mist had congealed into a woman, her lithe frame tightly wrapped in a dress of green-black snakeskin, ebon hair tumbling to the small of her back, casting shadows over glowing yellow eyes. '' ''"Alright, alright, no need for threats!" '' ''Thin lips painted black quirked in a half sneer. '' ''"And what brings a pair of Envy Demons, a Wrath Demon, and an Abomination to my doorstep? Surely you weren't moved by tales of this poor girl's plight?" '' ''Slowly apprising the manifested demon, Turel's eyebrow quirked. "No, surely not." '' ''Before the serpentine newcomer could respond, Zhirad's patience finally ran out, followed by a derisive laugh from Keller. "Silence, worm!" '' ''"Oh, now he's mad." '' ''"Do you realize how many resources we've wasted in pursuit of an unprecedented contagion? There is a laboratory waiting, filled with equipment that will never be used! And you have the gall to mock us!?" '' ''With a wrenching motion, Zhirad sent a dagger hurtling towards the Sloth Demon, only for her to blink out of existence as it passed through open air. From the mantle came a lilting chuckle as she dangled a single leg. '' ''"Temper temper. Surely there's no need for violence." '' ''Turel's coterie blinked collectively at her sudden relocation, sharing a glance amongst themselves before turning all attention to the Demon on the mantle. '' ''"How did you do that?" '' ''"Oh, wouldn't you like to know? Float in the Nether long enough, and it will reveal its currents." '' ''Turel smiled. '' ''"As a matter of fact, I very much would like to know. Tell me, do you have any plans now that the girl has been "cured"?" '' ''She smiled. '' ''"Not yet, but I might be joining a handsome stranger on the road, if he's as charming as he seems. What should I call you, handsome stranger?" '' ''"Turel. A pleasure. And you are?" '' ''"Siras. And the pleasure is all mine." Another Time Another Place Two Years Later The Inquisitor's boots pushed resolutely through the snow covered street that wound to the very center of Brightwall. Though winter had arrived scant weeks ago, the windows flanking the street were coated in a heavy frost. It was an ill omen, fitting for a time when war seemed to be sweeping across the entire world, yet even in the face of the cold dark the Inquisitor could not help but feel a lightness in his step, a weight removed from his back. When the few citizens still on the streets gave him a polite bow, he smiled back with genuine warmth, appearing to all the world as the ideal soldier of the Bright Inquisition. For he had finally slain his quarry, a foul demon that had polluted his homeland for far too long, and while many struggles lay ahead they were the struggles of healing. Pulling his thick white cloak closer about him, the Inquisitor marveled at how his home seemed unchanged despite his months away. Brightwall Keep still stood atop the town's tallest hill, a proud beacon of granite bathed in continual firelight. The scents of roasting meats and fine ale still lay heavy on the wind, a blessed respite from the stale bread and boiled water whose taste still lingered on his tongue. True, the high-peaked houses may have had their measure of grime, but to his eye the city was perfect, and with each step he took closer to home it seemed more so. '' ''A few short blocks from the entrance to the Keep, the Inquisitor finally stopped. Before him stood a fine house, almost a manor, light pouring merrily through cloudy windows. On the door was engraved the crest of his fathers, a dozen generations sworn to safeguard mankind against the depredations of the Nether. It was a holy trust, a bond to the land and its people, and beneath its gaze all weariness seemed to melt from his legs. Taking the remaining distance in a few bounding strides, the Inquisitor threw open the door with a roaring laugh. For while his wife and his daughter had been informed of his coming he still wished to see their earnest attempts at surprise, hear his daughter's gay laugh as she rushed to his arms, feel the warm touch of his wife's hand as she searched for new scars, new hurts that needed tending. Aye, t'would be a marvelous homecoming...if only they would respond. He stood on the threshold a moment, his eyes clouded with confusion, before marching inside and allowing the door to swing shut against the cold. Shrugging off his cloak, the Inquisitor called out their names once, twice, yet still received no response. His brow furrowed, he pushed open the door to their parlor, where a merry fire was blazing in front of his chair. He took a step forward before the mumble reached his ears, and he saw his wife and daughter bound and gagged on the sofa. Time seemed to slow for an instant, and before his hand could find the hilt of his sword he felt twin lances of fire shoot up his legs as daggers severed his Achilles tendons. He almost managed to stifle his scream, though it was cut short as a pair of childish feet took him in the small of the back and sent him to his knees. The landing was hard, but it shocked him enough to push pain from his mind, to force his hand towards a sword belt that was no longer there. '' ''A throaty chuckle came from the archway leading to the dining room, as a woman draped in snakeskin and wearing a silver mask seemed to materialize from the shadows, his sword belt in hand. He tried to yell, to call for help, only for his head to be forced to the ground as a little girl slid from his back, heels digging into his skull. As she scampered towards the woman in snakeskin, she was joined by two men stepping from behind him, their blades slick with his blood. As they joined the two women, a low clapping cut through his family's muffled screams, coming from his own chair before the fire. The source of the clapping stood, a dark figure in charred finery, with burning purple eyes. '' ''"Welcome home, commander. We've been waiting for you." '' ''The Inquisitor's reply died in his throat as the figure's face entered the firelight. It wasn't possible! He'd burned the creature's inn, set guards all around to keep anything from escaping! His own mystics had felt the passing of Nether energies returning to the void, and yet still... '' ''"How..." '' ''"Did we survive your little ambush? Please, do you think this is the first time we've needed to slip away from hunters? Your order is skilled, but not so clever that we could not elude them. But you cost me a perfectly good copy of Thezian's Necromundae. I must admit, you've managed to anger me." '' ''The monster started walking towards him, slowly, almost casually, and despite his best efforts the Inquisitor could not move to defend himself. Even as he tried to move his arm, his vision blurred, and every muscle was as lead. It was all he could do to track the approaching Demon with his eyes. '' ''"You've poisoned m-" '' ''Without warning, the Demon brought his boot sweeping into the Inquisitor's jaw, sending him tumbling backwards with a *crack*. Yet the Demon's stride was hardly interrupted as he knelt beside the prone Inquisitor and grabbed his face in one hand. '' ''"That's enough talking for now." '' ''With a single arm, the Demon lifted the Inquisitor and brought his head crashing down on the hardwood floor, splintering the beams and leaving the Inquisitor stunned. Standing, the Demon dragged his prey with him, sending him flying into an oaken book case that promptly crumbled beneath the impact, sending parchment flying. '' ''"Siras, the curtains." '' ''And then the silver masked woman was no longer among the others, but standing at the far wall, drawing thick velvet curtains across the parlor's bay windows. '' ''"How did you..." '' ''A heel to his sternum was all the answer he received. '' ''"I said no talking. Keller, Zhirad, prepare him." '' ''Once again, the big man was tossed like a rag doll, this time at the feet of the two men with daggers. Responding only with evil smiles, they pulled a hemp bag from beneath a nearby table and produced two lengths of black iron chain. With a toss, one was sent over a thick rafter and locked into a carved opening in the dining room arch. Then came the manacles, and soon he was hanging upright, his legs securely bound by the other length of chain. Staring into the parlor, he watched the Demon pull a long steel rod from the bag of chains and begin twirling it fast enough that it whistled in the air. '' ''"Alright, now we may speak. You have questions?" '' ''Spitting out a mouth full of blood, the Inquisitor stared defiantly at his captor, maintaining a stony silence until curiosity overwhelmed him. '' ''"What are you?" '' ''"How typical of a Demon Hunter. So focused on the hunt he doesn't even bother to check what he's hunting." '' ''Without warning, the steel rod lashed out, shattering a rib. The Inquisitor choked back a gasp of pain even as his body contorted, but the Demon continued circling him nonchalantly. '' ''"I am no Demon, Inquisitor, though I do keep their company. I am what your kind might call an Abomination, if you've bothered to safeguard the old writings." '' ''The color drained from the Inquisitor's face. He knew of the Abominations, nightmares from the past that had plunged entire nations into fire and blood. '' ''"Ah, I see you have heard of us. Excellent." '' ''Another impact, this one dislocating a shoulder as his body strained against the chains to absorb the blow. '' ''"My name is Turel Meresin, and were it not for you I'd still be happily instigating my little war. But no, your order had to involve itself in my business, had to send you to spoil my plans." '' ''He saw the third blow coming, a low arc that slammed into his belly and sent vomit shooting up his throat. But this time the blows did not stop, and soon the vomit was gone and the Inquisitor was coughing up blood. Taking a deep breath, Turel pulled back for a moment, composing himself before resuming his circuit around his prey. '' ''"You must be wondering why you're still conscious. It's quite ingenious, really, this poison we've given you. The first part paralyzes the muscles, but that of course would dull the pain, so the second part stimulates feeling while maintaining the paralysis. And yet, your body is so spun about by the combination that shock refuses to set in. It is truly brilliant work, Zhirad." '' ''One of the knife wielders gave a slight bow as the Inquisitor coughed, trying desperately to remain stalwart in the face of disaster. '' ''"So you intend to torture me? To use me for your amusement!? Then go on, do it! I shall endure whatever barbarism you can muster, Abomination." '' ''Turel fixed a long, slow look on the dangling Inquisitor, a small smile on his face. '' ''"Oh, but Inquisitor, why should I torture you when I have your entire family to play with? Keller, bring the girl." *** The scent of burning hair and flesh hung heavy in the air. Dawn had come and gone, yet fatigue refused to touch the Inquisitor's eyes. He'd screamed himself hoarse hours ago, begging desperately for Turel to turn his attentions to him, yet he remained untouched. His daughter lay at his feet, her back irrevocably contorted from the desperate thrashing that had come from the bloody runes Turel had carved into her with a burning knife. Even now, the child Demon played aimlessly with his daughter's hair, touching a burning brand to her scalp every so often just to watch an agonized shudder rock her broken body. Nearby, his wife lay upon a low coffee table, cradling the mangled remains of her hands and whimpering soundlessly as Turel finished carving the last of his runes into her cheeks. Plucking a six inch nail from a much diminished pile, Turel considered a moment before plunging it into the base of her spine. Somehow, miraculously, he remained untouched by the blood of his victims, though he still took a moment to consider his cuticles before driving his well-used knife into the nearby wood. '' ''"Well, Inquisitor, it seems I've exhausted you wife and daughter's hospitality. I suppose you're curious as to the purpose of this?" '' ''Turel indicated downwards, to a bare patch where his minions had carved an elaborate circle of runes. The Inquisitor recognized it as a summoning circle, and beyond that he had little care any more. Taking minutes to reclaim the merest rasp of a voice, he leaned towards Turel. '' ''"Please...I'm the one you want...let them go..." '' ''Turel laughed, a jolly sound that nevertheless cut straight to the soul. '' ''"You do have the right of it sir - I have a proposition for you." '' ''Leaning in close, Turel whispered conspiratorially, as though he and the Inquisitor were old friends. '' ''"I find myself in need of someone who knows these lands much more intimately than those in my company, and your attempt on my life reveals a deplorable lack of understanding the Demon Hunter Orders on my part. I intend to summon a demon to that circle, and if you consent, I shall bind it irrevocably to your soul and make you my loyal servant." '' ''"WHAT!? I'll never agree to such..." '' ''The steel rod impacting his leg cut short the Inquisitor's protests, as his shin splintered. '' ''"Now now, you didn't let me finish. If you refuse this arrangement, I shall leave, and take your family with me. You'd be amazed at how skilled my physician is in the healing arts - indeed, with a few weeks of care from him your wife and daughter will be almost as hale and healthy as they were last night. Once they recover fully, I'll torture them again, perhaps experiment with my technique a bit. But I won't kill them. No, I'll allow them to recover again, and again. The destruction of your family's humanity will become a monthly event, and with every session their sanity will slip further and further away. Eventually, their only sensation will be pain, both fresh and remembered. They will forget their life here, their loving father and husband, and become my creatures entirely, hunched broken things whose only desire will be to please me and stave off their night of utter torment for a few minutes more. And after a few years, when I have exhausted my imagination, I shall sell your wife to a grotesquerie, so she can endure the spite and feces of the common man as she is paraded as a freak and a monster through the slums of this world. And your daughter? I shall take care to safeguard her beauty, and when she comes of age she will become my whore, a plaything whose only cognizant memory will be how I lifted her from a life of constant torment and allowed her to serve my *every* desire. I shall do all this, and leave you alive to brood on it. I shall break you so completely that your only function as you live out your days will be to soil yourself and think on the degradation I have brought to those you love most. And in the end, when you have become old and blind I shall return and have your daughter slit your throat." '' ''The Inquisitor's eyes were fixed squarely on Turel, the sheer horror of what he was hearing overwhelming even the rising fury that compelled him to try whatever he could to slay this monstrous thing before him. '' ''"Or, you could accept my offer, swear eternal and unyielding fealty to me, and I swear I shall not lay another hand on your family." '' ''A whisper from the Inquisitor, barely audible, yet Turel's smile only widened. '' ''"Alright. I accept." '' ''"Excellent." '' ''Turel gave a slight nod to the waiting Zhirad, and the Inquisitor was quickly freed from his manacles. He crumpled under his own weight with a gasp of pain, the lack of support revealing the extent of his own injuries, forcing Keller to drag him bodily into the center of the summoning circle. A purple flame engulfed Turel's hand before leaping into the furrows in the floor, igniting the circle in phantom light. Slowly, he began to speak in an ancient tongue, the words tearing though the air like flame through a forest, rising steadily in volume and speed. With every syllable, the circle drank in more light, leaving the room in umbral darkness despite the daylight outside. At the heart of the shadows, misty figures began to emerge, twisted monstrosities pulling against the invisible currents of the Nether. Turel's voice rose to a crescendo, and the misty monstrosities began to whirl above the Inquisitor, the purple flames of the summoning circle reaching out to ensnare them. Looking down at the Inquisitor, Turel shouted above the sudden wind. '' ''"Hate me!" '' ''The Inquisitor looked up through the curtains of flame, feeling the burning fury in his heart, yet still the spirits above swirled aimlessly. '' ''"HATE ME!" '' ''Reaching into a hidden pocket, Turel pulled forth a small glass vial and threw it at the Inquisitor's daughter. It shattered on contact, spilling acid over her legs, and despite her prior torments she wailed in pitiable agony. Mad, blazing wrath leapt into the Inquisitor's heart, and as he tried to push himself to his feet, to hurl himself at Turel, he was forced down by one of the Demons above finally diving into him. Pain gripped him then, a transcendent agony that froze time and space as his body and soul were remade, his tortured limbs made whole. And as his eyes flooded with a bloody light, a rage undreamed of spread through every part of him. Then the flames winked out, leaving a panting animal at the center of a circle of cinders. Swiftly, Turel moved forward, kneeling down to grasp the new Abomination's head and force him to meet his gaze. The animal eyes stared in terror and in anger at the unrecognized face, but as his fingers touched temples a dark current began to spread from Turel. '' ''"Arise, Marcoth, my son. Arise and greet a world unprepared for your majesty." '' ''Turel stood, and Marcoth followed, a puppet attached to Turel's fingers. '' ''"You will serve me well, and loyally, and I shall lavish such rewards on you. But first..." '' ''Turel turned to look at the comatose bodies of the two females, unrecognized by the new born monster in his hands. '' ''"Kill this anchor to your imperfect past." '' ''Without hesitation, Marcoth leapt forward, plunging iron hard fingers into defenseless throats and slaking his thirst with blood. Days later, the madness would leave him, and he would rage at Turel, clinging desperately to the belief that the slaughter had been forced. But in that instant, that primal moment, no order was necessary. And Turel smiled.